


You squeeze and shake me (shake me babe)

by jongdality



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 01:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12378363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jongdality/pseuds/jongdality
Summary: An awards show win, Jongdae's birthday. Joonmyun and Jongdae decide, in the solitary early morning hours, to celebrate.





	You squeeze and shake me (shake me babe)

"A modern marvel."

"Stop."

"My Adonis."

"Please stop-"

"Jongdae, if you had a choice, would you fuck me or Rick Owens?"

Jongdae glanced wickedly at the models on his blazing computer screen, hooking the fluffy duvet further up around his shoulders. A warm arm that had long ago wrapped around his waist, mildly tangled in his oversized shirt, prompted him with a squeeze.

"Rick Owens circa 2015 - he was really cool then," a salvo of indignant shaking, Jongdae's slim body like a sappling, "hey! And Kim Joonmyun circa now!"

It was exactly the truth. Kim Joonmyun lingered a foot away, his ankle rolling into the muscle knot on the other’s calf, smooth skin brush brush brushing against more smooth skin and the dark blue blanket. His breath smelled of late night herbal tea and Blistex, and Jongdae could see the late-night chap Joonmyun got when he let Jondae pump the AC up so far the bedroom turns arctic-cold. A milky expanse of skin pressed taut against his jaw and became plump up to his cheeks, and his hair was in a semi-gelled shock from the proud kiss Joonmyun had flippantly given Jongdae in an alcove backstage after EXO won another award. Jongdae had dug his fingers into the stiff mess to keep from falling backward.

"Fuck," Jongdae breathed.

"What?"

"You look...I don't know, good, right now."

Joonmyun preened self-consciously, coal-smudged eyes averted from Jongdae's dark ones. "I thought I was supposed to be giving the compliments, here."

Jongdae's gaze swept sweetly over the frail yet stark features of Joonmyun. His shoulders were thin, collarbones sunken in with the shadow cast by his monitor, but Jongdae's were smaller. Joonmyun was wrapped in old, ochre sweater that tugged down in all the wrong places, snagged at some point in the dryer so the neckline was all stretched, and he generally looked uncouth. Jongdae's expression turned from surprised to astonished, a sharp intake of breath escaping under as Joonmyun locked eyes with him, again. Hard.

The younger's eyes flicked nervously to his cracked door, his sensibilities overriding Joonmyun's pomade and rich Bleu de Chanel, the top notes of pink pepper, citrus accord, vetiver that Jongdae got to take in before their performance - here, in the aftermath, he inhales Joonmyun in those sweet, lively smells of ginger and sandalwood.

"We can kiss some more, if you want," Joonmyun said slowly, hesitantly, as if Jongdae were a cornered animal. Jongdae's hooked lips curled into a magic, teasing smile.

"I love you."

"Ah, you wound me, Kim Jongdae."

Jongdae let out a sharp, guttural laugh. "Wound you?"

"You've gotten under my skin, baby," Joonmyun emphasizes this sentiment by curling his fingers around the laptop's monitor. "I don't know what to do with my body when you surprise me like that."

Jongdae's eyebrows knotted; he shifted languorously on the creaking full. The way the tendons in his thin neck pressed out was positively occult to Joonmyun, and god, did he want him - slowly, roughly, lovingly, carelessly.

Jongdae’s arms slid, serpentine and parallel to Joonyun's silky hip bone, fingers pressing into the dimples of his lower back. Joonmyun waited for that tame demeanor to break - for Jongdae to say something consequential that would simmer the build.

"I know..." Jongdae started sheepishly, high register calm, paltry. "You've sort of kept a stiff upper lip about us not...having sex. I have a sneaking suspicion it hasn't been easy for you, so I'm sorry."

"Jongdae, it hasn't been...it hasn't been that difficult for me. Most of the time."

Jongdae's eyebrows quirked coquettishly - a blush was spreading from his ears to the apples of his cheeks. Joonymun took it as a welcome to be even more forthcoming.

"Sometimes, and I can't explain it, so...well," he paused, swiping a tendril of hair that had fallen into Jongdae's face - a beautiful, sleepy, blotchy face in repose, deep in his pillow and illuminated only by the streetlight outside of the window. "I try to respect your boundaries, but lately, I've been having these sort of...intrusions."

"Intrusions," Jongdae echoed carefully. He was now scraping his fingers into the wisps of baby hair at the nape of Joonmyun's neck patiently, beckoning him - his head was swimming in exhaustion, heavy like wet sand.

"I know you said you were kind of...scared. I know I'd be the first man you've had sex with," Joonmyun's voice was low, conspiratorial. Jongdae groaned at the thought, stomach broiling low and interrupting his fugue. "So sometimes it's when we get under the blankets together, and I just think, 'man, I want to touch you'".

"Oh."

"But I don't want to pressure you."

"Baby," Jongdae breathed out. Joonmyun didn't hear him - his body was thrumming as he talked himself to the edge of sanity.

"And then it's in the way I see you through that little, fuzzy square when you're finishing up vocal warm-up. I always volunteered to go get you for dance, but one day, I just saw your adam's apple bob so...so fucking intensely," Joonmyun rambled. "I imagined what it would be like to make you scream, to move your neck back with my hand-" he demonstrated by sliding his callous hand against the veiny, warm alabaster of Jongdae's throat, as if in a trance, but didn't squeeze.

"Joonmyun," Jongdae panted, his eyes falling closed as the branding iron of his lover's hand pressed softly inward. "Joonmyun."

"Is it too much?" Joonmyun asked, noting the tiny tremble in the knob of Jongdae's throat as it bobbed downward, ebbed upward heinously.

A beat. Jongdae shook his head diplomatically, his hands curling around Joonmyun's wrist as if to grant silent permission.

Joonmyun continued, voice a soft decrescendo, "And then we started talking...kissing."

Jongdae's eyes began to sting. He gripped Joonmyun's wrists; Joonmyun retracted quickly as if he had actually burned his lover. Jongdae indulged him in an encouraging kiss, chaste lips against one another, before he reverently replied, "Then I touched you."

"I wish you would, again. I think about it all the time."

Jongdae's willpower was nearly decimated; he pressed his bony, geometric hips into Joonmyun's thigh. They both sighed at the sensation, Joonmyun's hand falling to lounge on the almost womanly curve. Jongdae didn’t have a lot else, Joonmyun thought to himself, but he had those torturous, magnetic hips.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Joonmyun whispered, hot and secret into the shell of his boyfriend's ear.

"Ah, you're...convincing," Jongdae still hadn't let his eyes fall into Joonmyun's hold. Right then, he could live in this dream, in this dark and blind fog. "It just seems dangerous."

"You seem dangerous," Joonmyun replied, voice saturated with amusement as he punctuated the statement with a gentle tug of Jongdae's hips as Jongdae rolled them forward into his grip. "Potent weaponry."

Jongdae sniggered. The revelation that tonight was the night vaguely wriggled into his consciousness like a worm. It wasn't that he never thought about what it would be like to have Joonmyun on him, in him, encompassing him in his apple cider eyes and sturdy arms. It wasn't that he hadn't imagined what it would feel like to feel sweat rolling down his forehead, dripping steadily onto Joonmyun's toned, sand-dune abdomen, like rain in a draught, life in bareness, his hands holding up his weight as he rose up and down rhythmically, eyes squeezed shut in beautiful focus. The way Joonmyun's eyes would control him, the way his kisses would scathe him, lavish him in a heaven Jongdae would die for. He'd imagined it all with Joonmyun.

He just didn't want to be caught - or caught up. He liked the mutualistic, tender love they broke ground on together. He liked to think about Joonmyun especially when Joonmyun didn't suspect it. He liked the hot, hellish torture as he touched himself to Joonmyun's sleeping profile, lips slightly parted in an unconscious awe.

He didn't want the other members to know about the territory that only they knew; he wanted the solitary ease he had grown comfortable in with Joonmyun, stretched his back out and talked about his dreams and superstitions in with the man. And he knew that as soon as Joonmyun had physically taken him, known him inside and out, Joonmyun would want everyone to know what they were - lovers, partners, a strong middle c and a beautiful, sonorous octave step-up g - an anchoring point and its lighter harmony. 

Joonmyun loved to hear Jongdae play the piano.

The waves of relief that materialized on Joonmyun's face as Jongdae hardened against him crashed into Jongdae in this moment, whitecaps reflecting the glorious sunlight and blinding him, binding him to the unknown, choppy sea that was the dark-eyed man. He yanked back violently, pressing a palm to Joonmyun's chest.

A splutter, and Joonmyun clambered off the bed in a rush. 

"I'm, fuck, Jongdae, what-"

"Joonmyun-"

"I'm sorry if I-"

"Joonmyun!"

Chirality, Joonmyun floundering and motioning with his left hand as Jongdae's right hand sunk into the mattress, sheet a withered, crumpled mess under his hand as he clenched and unclenched his small fist. Joonmyun's face was the moon, half cast in shadow, half in light. His dark eye looked like a cold, toy marble Jongdae had as a child; his shirt clung to his tapered waist; the tent in his sweats was unmistakable.

Joonmyun wrung his shirt fastidiously, those greasy errant strands of hair falling against his clean forehead, again. A tangible, foreign discomfort settled into the creases of the room like a toxic mold. 

Jongdae looked petrified, Joonmyun thought, like he was holding him hostage here in this dark, hushed room.

"Angel," Joonmyun started. The wrinkle in the silence caused Jongdae to flinch. "Jongdae."

A whisper. "I'm sorry."

"No, angel, it's okay. Really. Hey, sweetheart, Jongdae..." Joonmyun reached for an internally hysterical boy, arms sliding around his lover's ribcage as he kneed his way to the middle of the bed to hold him, force his limbs open so he could wrap his body around Jongdae's warm, tiny body. He looked so young when he was sullen.

Jongdae wasn't crying; he wasn't a crier, and Joonmyun knew it. He pressed his nose into the junction between jaw and neck, kissing softly against the lovely plane of skin. "Don't ever be sorry. We'll have sex when you're ready, okay? It'll be me; I'll be here. But only when you're ready."

"Turn on the light, Joonmyun," Jongdae's voice cracked a little, imbued with a strange, tight lilt Joonmyun couldn't quite place.

"Jongdae?"

"Please?"

Joonmyun pulled back, hands on either of Jongdae's biceps to gauge Jongdae's mental state. The sullen, sunken gaze Joonmyun was so used to in times when things got too heated had dissolved; a novel determination gripped his curved eyes and wrinkled his nose. Even through the self-possession, Joonmyun saw anxiety stare back at him, demanding carte blanche, don't ask questions, don't ask questions, don't ask questions.

The bed creaked as Joonmyun once again slid off it, tripping over a spare shoe with a cursory thump before flicking the warm ceiling light on. The room was instantly awash in a soft, ineffective jaundiced glow; Jongdae's skin looked tawny and dewy - perhaps from sweat, Joonmyun thought. He was punch drunk by Jongdae's tumescent, red lips, his shoulders the light gleamed off of, his jaw set fatalistically.

He was hard, too. Joonmyun took note as he scrutinized Jongdae's familiar body from his messy, shower-wet hair to his socked feet.

"You think...I'm..appealing, Joonmyun?" Jongdae jarred him out of his reverie, voice soft and withdrawn. "Sexually?"

"Jongdae, you know I do," Joonmyun murmured.

Jongdae's back arched, feline and lithe, as he crawled to the edge of the bed, leaning back on his haunches as he played with the fringe of his oversized shirt.

"What about me?"

Joonmyun blinked. "Well, I-"

"Would you show me? I'd like to...see."

Devout as a monk approaching a statue of a deity, Joonmyun stepped forward. His eyebrows furrowed, muscles working robotically to measure where Joonmyun could touch on his boyfriend's body, running his fingers down his cheek like an ancient artifact. Jongdae turned into the warmth of his palm, nuzzling it as Jongdae's other hand worked its way down the slender slope of Jongdae's waist, resting on his hip, sliding down his muscular thigh. His eyes flickered between his own hands and the steady gaze Jongdae held on Joonmyun's face.

They were dancing a delicate game, Joonmyun only ostensibly in the lead. He could feel the delicious warmth radiating from Jongdae's body, like a pheromonal bath invading his senses. What the hell was going on?

"Jongdae," Joonmyun began in a hushed, too-nonchalant voice. "Are you going to let me make love to you tonight?"

A rogue hand crept under Jongdae's t-shirt, pressing into the younger’s soft stomach as Jongdae bit his bottom lip. He inhaled through his nose; out through his nose, rustling the long strands of hair that had settled there. He nodded gently, an almost imperceptible movement.

"Good, sweetheart. Good."

Jongdae smiled. And Joonmyun knew it was time to lay him back, pull his shirt slowly over his shoulders with a whispered beseeching of "lift up, love". He liked the light on, he liked seeing Jongdae's hard nipples, the strip of hair that led into his boxers, and most of all, the placid, trusting gaze with which Jongdae watched Joonmyun undress him. If anything unnerved him, aroused him, it was Jongdae's slanted, stranglehold eyes that begged him to continue.

The potential Jongdae had to feel good, to feel pleasure and sex and connection under Joonmyun's own ministrations whisked the elder into a quiet frenzy that had him grabbing strands of Jongdae's hair, straddling him, licking softly at his jaw line and alternating with kisses. A soft suckling sound filled the air; the snuffling moan Jongdae bit back had Joonmyun pressing his hips down into his gorgeous boyfriend as in tandem he hooked Jongdae's upward, watching the opalescent pink spread from his cheeks to his neck and spatter his chest.

Joonmyun grabbed the younger by the chin, cradling the back of his head to pull him up so that Joonmyun was nestled in Jongdae's lap, caging him in with his clothed thighs. Their lips engaged, pressed and mashed so naturally Joonmyun thought it was an implicit memory. Joonmyun trapped Jongdae's pillowy bottom lip between his own, sucking inward with a little gasp as Jongdae deepened the kiss, his arms draped around his older lover's shoulders.

Chests writhing against one another, Jongdae helped his boyfriend remove and discard his shirt on the floor. Joonmyun grinded down as he pulled the beautiful boy’s thin hips to feel his hardness, palming the shape of Jongdae's cock through his sweatpants as his tongue curled into Jongdae's soft mouth. Teeth clacked as the kiss grew more heated - Joonmyun's saliva on Jongdae's bottom lip and Jongdae's nails digging into the other’s scalp as he tried to grapple, to keep up with the feverish pace that had him surging forward into Joonmyun's warm hand and panting in pleasure.

After a few less than graceful maneuvers, Joonmyun had his lover’s sweatpants off and mumbled a quick, regrettable platitude as he wiped his spit from Jongdae's mouth after they parted, laying him back down to blanket his own body on top of his boyfriend. Jongdae's thighs fell open naturally, consuming Joonmyun like a wildfire, hot and quick and irrepressible. The elder pressed Jongdae's legs even further apart with pale hands at the inside of his knees, sitting back up and settling between them to allow his mouth access to the pale, muscular expanse of thigh. He lavished the inside of his knee, first, and as Jongdae watched, enraptured by this beautiful, shameless creature, Joonmyun kissed a sloppy trail down the inside of Jongdae's creamy thigh, hand forcing Jongdae's knee to stay open against the bashfulness of the younger.

Jongdae couldn't help but desperately entangle his fingers in Joonmyun's hair - he was overwhelmed, breathing harsh and shallow, and didn't know what else to do besides hold on. He was burning up - he wanted more, he wanted more, fuck, he wanted more. 

"Baby," Joonmyun murmured, soft and sultry, "this feels okay, right? You have to talk to me, Jongdae, so I know how you're doing."

"It's...it's new," Jongdae managed.

Joonmyun went rigid, pressing his cheek into the warm skin of Jongdae's inner thigh as his hand pressed into the outside of the beautiful man's thigh. "If it's too much, I'll stop."

"No, Joonmyun, I want..."

"You want what, sweetheart?" Gentle and wheedling, Joonmyun kneaded his fist into Jongdae's tense thigh. He wanted the younger man, wanted him so bad he didn't know if he could return from the steel-stomached lust gripping him, didn't know if he could stop himself from taking Jongdae for his own pleasure even if he thought Jongdae wasn't quite ready.

Jongdae's eyes flitted between Joonmyun's eyes and Jongdae's own crotch. His own inadequacies seemed unimportant with Joonmyun's breath fanning across his cock, body immobilized by Joonmyun's hands. His mind flurried with all the things he wanted.

Joonmyun tapped the inside of his thigh. "Tell me what you want, love."

"I hate you..." he croaked, head lolling to the side, eyes glimmering with a wilder, deeper fantasy.

Joonmyun's lips slanted seductively; Jongdae's cock throbbed in incriminating agony. The elder’s fingers toyed with the waistband of his black cotton boxers, and Jongdae pouted.

"You have to-"

"I want your mouth. I want you to suck my cock," Jongdae interrupted lewdly, and as soon as the words came out, his hand flew to his face of its own volition. Joonmyun let out a hack of laughter at Jongdae's humiliation, moving up his body to pry his hands from his face and peck his raw lips.

"I've wanted to do this for so long," Joonmyun admitted, letting his own shy smile come through as he bobbed his head back and forth to hold Jongdae's shifty gaze. Without a warning, Joonmyun was pulling Jongdae's cock out of his boxers, glancing assuredly at Jongdae when Jongdae's hands clamored to halt him.

As Jongdae tried to curl in on himself, face flushing hot at the sight of Joonmyun pressing a kiss to the crown of his cock, Joonmyun forced the man to sprawl even further out. Jongdae's heart fluttered a nervous hummingbird thrum, and pealing his eyes away from the pure sex that was his boyfriend seemed an unmanageable task. He watched, with aching chest, Joonmyun take his flushed, hard cock between his lips - to make nobody but him feel wonderful and good. With an unexperienced urgency, Jongdae found himself rutting up, a litany of soft gasps and whines sliding from his lips as Joonmyun pinned his sharp hips down to the mattress.

Joonmyun's mouth pooled with saliva as he took his lover's cock into his mouth. He was used to closing his eyes when he sucked cock; now, his eyes darted between his work and Jongdae's wrecked, sweaty face. He watched it screw up with pleasure when he dipped low, sucking his lips in and laving Jongdae's cock at the base - can almost feel that cloying combustion in the pit of Jongdae's stomach as his body wracked with overcome sobs and pleads for more, please, Joonmyun.

His tongue pressed against the rivery vain shooting up his lover's member, and, taking him into his fist to give him a few rough pumps as he kissed at the base, he turned his head to slather open-mouthed kisses up the length. He felt Jongdae's muscle flicker, his cock shifting minutely against the roof of his mouth, when Joonmyun pressed the bulb of his cock back between his dark, wet lips. Legs press in like the walls of a torture room, thrown over the elder's shoulders. Down up, down up, and Jongdae is reaching down, now, outstretched palm curling unforgivingly around the hand Joonmyun has squeezed around Jongdae's outer mid-thigh to hold him in place. A wet spot pools below Jongdae’s ass, completely comprised of pre-cum and Joonmyun’s dripping saliva.

Joonmyun came off Jongdae's cock with a little pop, eyes filled with tears from his determined pace, muffling a moan into the very inside of Jongdae's thigh. He let Jongdae rock up so perfectly, so deliciously, into his balled, tight fist, let him get close to the edge as he lowered Jongdae's trembling thighs back down against the bed to move up his body and slide his tongue into the shaking boy’s mouth, again, swallowing Jongdae's intensifying moans. He wanted to see Jongdae come undone; needed to see Jongdae gripped by pleasure, pleasure that he gave him. Joonmyun pulled back just enough to watch Jongdae wrench his head back incrementally, pressing back into the pillows, hair splayed wildly, with every tensing, melodic moan forced from between pursed lips, and then an open mouth. He didn't care who heard.

And then, a fierce, piercing cry, and Jongdae spills streaks of white into Joonmyun's hand and across his own chest. Joonmyun watched in wondrous awe, his own cock throbbing roughly as Jongdae's face contorted with orgasm, his heart beat pulsating quickly through his cock as Joonmyun stroked him, milked him, until he was mewling in oversensitivity, panting to re-regulate his heartbeat and squirming beneath him.

Jongdae's hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and when he finally did open his heavy eyes, his pupils were blown. His chest was splotchy and sweaty, head oscillating wildly as he shook his head in a wild disbelief. The smile that stretched across his face was brilliant, spiritual.

"Good?" Joonmyun smiled back at the radiant younger man underneath him.

"I love you," Jongdae responded. With a chuckle, Joonmyun gave him a sweet kiss.

"I love you too, goofball."

"Then take me. For real," Jongdae retorted. His smile faded to a confident, sedated simper, his eyes boring into the elder's. It seemed that one run-in with sex had Jongdae craving more, which was a red-flag to the overly-cautious Joonmyun. Was he still riding a high? Would he regret this in the morning?

Joonmyun searched for any salient hesitation in Jongdae's eyes. He found satisfaction, even a bit of wry amusement at Joonmyun's own faltering, but Jongdae showed no sign of fear. 

For Jongdae, even Joonmyun's mouth and hands were revelatory. They heralded a new life, a new exploration with Joonmyun, a new side of the spectrum of love Jongdae hadn't yet seen.

"This isn't, like, a quid pro quo thing for you, right?" Joonmyun asked slowly, weighing his words. "Because you don't owe me anything, Jongdae-"

"No, it isn't. I want you to feel good, that's true, but I just...I feel loved, okay? It's my risk to take and I want to know what it's like to have you inside me and-"

Joonmyun silenced him with a slow, devoted kiss, warm lips sliding against warm lips. Jongdae tasted himself on Joonmyun's tongue. When Joonmyun, himself, finally pulled back, he pressed their foreheads together, and with eyes closed, whispered, "You mean a lot to me, and I want you. I just want you to be one hundred percent sure, baby."

The bed again dipped, the blankets now a tangled mess on the floor as Jongdae clambered over them on his way to the opposite wall and the light switch. Joonmyun followed his nude figure - the curve of his ass, his toned thighs, each individual vertebra sticking out as if they were all screaming inhabitants of a burning building trying to escape Jongdae's thin skin. As soon as Jongdae flipped the lights off, again, standing there awkwardly, Joonmyun raised himself up from the bed to pin Jongdae against the door. With renewed vigor, Joonmyun attacked the porcelain skin of Jongdae's long neck, arms cradled under his armpits and gripping hard against Jongdae's jutting wing bones. 

His angel, he thought, as he pulled him closer, cradled him against his body as he kissed a trail along Jongdae's collarbone, feeling the vibrations of Jongdae's moans as his hand ran down Jongdae's front, through Jongdae's own dripping cum and down to his leaking cock.

"Ah, Joonmyun, wait, wait-" Jongdae pleaded, grasping at Joonmyun's sweatpants. The elder obliged him, letting Jongdae pull down his sweatpants with his boxers. Joonmyun kicked them off and stepped back, letting his lover's eyes rove his body up and down.

Jongdae didn't do that, at all, though.

With conviction, Jongdae pulled Joonmyun back in for a heated kiss that left the older breathless; he drank in the scent of Jongdae's hot breath as they made out, noses bumping and hands plucking at each other's naked bodies. Joonmyun, through all his lust-fueled haze and the raging of his gut, couldn't help but feel admiration for his flustered, aroused lover. He was his world, and so, as he briefly pulled away from Jongdae's curved lips, he told him. His voice sounded like it was in a tunnel; Joonmyun hoped he understood him through what seemed like hurricane-speed wind blowing through his ears.

Jongdae just stared at him like he was an otherworldly creature, like something magnificent and ethereal, and gripped him like he would disappear if he didn't hold tight enough. Joonmyun mirrored his expression.

"What?" Joonmyun pressed.

"It's my birthday, Joonmyun," Jongdae breathed.

Joonmyun turned instinctively to the clock on his bedside table. 12:43 - they hadn't even noticed, too caught up before.

Joonmyun turned to again face Jongdae. "Happy birthday, my love."

"Make love to me," Jongdae repeated. "The best you can. For my birthday."

And like a divine order, it was suddenly an arms race to see who could press further into whom, who could so brazenly press their tongue between the other's lips to delve into warm mouth. Joonmyun felt more than realized his own limbs clamoring for Jongdae's, anchoring him against the door like a keystone as he pulled Jongdae's legs to wrap around his thin waist. He felt Jongdae’s abdomen tense with the effort, and began a fast, frenetic place of rutting up into his boyfriend's ass as their lips again collided, hands in hair, supporting arm holding Jongdae up as the smaller's bare shoulders and hips abraded the door behind him, a sliding, scratching noise enveloping them with every cant, accompanied with Jongdae’s stream of groans. Joonmyun felt dark, weighed down and taken over; anti-matter colliding with matter in a beautiful collision of energy, their sides brushing roughly and their hands gripping. 

Joonmyun had envisaged this scenario a thousand times before. Rough sex against the door, pounding Jongdae raw, making him cum twice before Joonmyun released, hot and sticky inside of him. Marking Jongdae's thighs and shoulders with his teeth as he pressed him over the practice room's bathroom; ripping those ludicrous, heart-panging notes from Jongdae's throat; thought about scratching him up and getting scratched and feeling the smarting on his back when he showered for days afterward. Sometimes, he even let himself divulge in the thought of tying Jongdae up, gagging him, spanking him, making him cry, making him quiver.

But this wasn't that. What Joonmyun wanted to do to Jongdae right now was so discordant - so far removed from those thoughts that he let his grip on Jongdae's lower back falter, and Jongdae slipped and crashed down onto the old berber carpet. Jongdae yelped in surprise, head knocking back against the wood, and Joonmyun almost had the wherewithal to make a good luck joke, but his body was far more reactionary than his muddled mind as he followed Jongdae down, crouching on his bare knees.

With an awkward, chagrined giggle, his canines gleaming with a smile that showed too wide in apology, Joonmyun asked, "Are you...are you okay?"

Jongdae was the owner of a shell-shocked, bemused expression downturning his features as if a hand were pulling the skin of his face down from his jaw. It was momentary, though; he smiled, and Joonmyun was pointedly aware of Jongdae tugging on his own cock, again, as he dislodged Joonmyun from his marble posture, forcing him to trip forward and catching Joonmyun's lips.

"Jongdae," he tried, trying to clear his throat, but it came out dirty and unsexy against Jongdae's mouth. "Baby, baby, baby."

His rough hand pressed against the white chest pressed against his own, feeling the rivulets of Jongdae's sweat in between his fingers as he pulled back. Their space was hot, heady, oppressive - Joonmyun had to stop before he flipped him over and took him right there on the rough carpeting, wanton and intemperate. 

Jongdaes eyes looked like black studs, his face a hot vermillion when Joonmyun pulled back to assess him. "We're on the floor."

"I'm okay with the floor."

Joonmyun snickered. "This isn't what either of us want."

Jongdae rushed to counter, "I want to have sex with you."

"I want to make love to you."

"Same thing."

Joonmyun's expression looked as if he'd just been slapped. "No, angel. Don't conflate the two."

Jongdae huffed; Joonmyun had the privilege of seeing Jongdae's arm muscles contract as he stretched them out on either side of him, fingers drumming impatiently as, in stark contrast to their clobbering heartbeats, his head thrummed back against the door to a song neither of them could hear. His eyes were narrowed as if he took the whole interaction for a joke; the red of his chest was dissipating like a river in the heat as Joonmyun just watched, ambivalence forcing only half of his shadowed face into a regretful smile. His eyes darted from Jongdae's flat tummy, dried cum and burgeoning muscles, to his fingers, with his black ring on his pointer knuckle, back to his oddly-colored, damp strands.

"So what do you want?" Jongdae asked jadedly; his forced disinterest - as if Joonmyun hadn’t spent 6 years of his life with this man, couldn't tell he was simmering under the skin - came off as ennui, and Joonmyun couldn't help but scoff. "To lay me in a bed of flowers, a harp-"

"C'mon, baby," Joonmyun interrupted him. He was shakily up on his feet, reaching for his sweatpants to pass to the younger. "Let's get you cleaned up, and we'll go from there."

"You didn't even let me finish my snark."

"You're right," Joonmyun responded. His fingers curled to beckon Jongdae's to curl into his own so he could help him up.

"This always happens with us," Jongdae muttered, and his narrowed eyes could have stopped a bullet in its tracks, Joonmyun swore, but he took it.

Joonmyun's countenance held an odd amusement Jongdae couldn't place. It was droll yet enigmatic; Joonmyun simply repeated himself more emphatically when Jongdae didn't move to pull the sweatpants over his bowed thighs. His eyes shined wearily, lighter stripes of the very early morning moon licking tendrils across his ribs and willowy fingers as he slipped on some new sweatpants from a drawer. His cock pressed outward, a small wet spot at the top of his clothed left thigh leaving Jongdae with a grimace and the mindset that this wasn't fair.

He tried to trundle forward through the mess of sheets and blanket on the floor, reaching for Joonmyun's sweatpants and opting to just finish this, succinct and filthy, but Joonmyun swatted him away.

"Patience," he punctuated the word with a peck, "good things come to those who wait."

Hand in hand, they snuck out Joonmyun's door into the hallway of the dorm. Their unsocked feet shuffled furtively until they were in the bathroom; Joonmyun pulled Jongdae, bare-chested and sleepy, into the bathroom and closed the door behind the both of them. He bumped into his lover when he went for the lightswitch; they both blinked violently as the sickly fluorescents lit up the tile.

"Ah," Jongdae groaned, disgruntled and huffy like a petulant child as Joonmyun pressed a warm washcloth to the crust almost ingrained in his skin. With a little scrubbing and Jongdae-posturizing, he managed to get Jongdae's stomach wiped clean. Silently, then, he went for the makeup wipes on the bathroom counter and addressed the dirty black smudges irritating his eyes; Jongdae leaned his side against the counter, hand rubbing indolently up and down Joonmyun's toned abdomen as Joonmyun hunched forward to wipe the rest of it off with the corner of the towelette. Butterflies, Joonmyun felt, like the inside of his stomach was being tickled. 

"Are you going to let yourself make love to me tonight, Joonmyun?" Jongdae asked gently - a little sardonically - echoing his boyfriend, only the hint of a bitter barb caught in the question.

Joonmyun discarded the tarried napkin in the trash by the door, finally letting himself turn back to his boyfriend, a clear, open canvas instead of a smoldering, smokescreen performer.

"I'm going to make love to you so good you can't remember your name," Joonmyun finally said, and his words deafened Jongdae, like the bomb to end a war, like displacing devastation that made the tips of his toes and fingers tingle. Joonmyun could feel this physiological response against Jongdae's silent shiver, the pursing of his lips. Jongdae crossed his arms over his chest and followed a solemn Joonmyun back to his bed.

Joonmyun took some time to almost pedantically straighten out the bedsheets, so when he clutched Jongdae around his slender waist and laid him down on his back, head on his pillow and arms splayed out against the Prussian Blue cotton, he looked like he was a beautiful, religious sacrifice for Joonmyun to appraise.

He couldn't help but note the dichotomy of unmistakable confusion etched out on Jongdae's features, and if he put himself into the right headspace where Joonmyun was completely confident in himself and his sexual prowess, he could say he saw some glowing, enamored reverence in Jongdae's expression.

He was nervous. He wanted to make his boyfriend feel good, wanted to be his baseline, his threshold, his bar. He wanted to be the only sex Jongdae would have, and with that tacit pressure, Joonmyun was left gaping at Jongdae, lips parted, as he watched Jongdae's sprawled figure shift awkwardly to take his sweatpants off and throw them back onto the floor. Jongdae's eyes never left Joonmyun's; his eyes gave off a lovely "don't be afraid", and Joonmyun hoped his eyes replied that he wanted this, wanted to try.

He slipped onto the bed after removing his own pants, throwing a thigh over Jongdae and running his fingers up the smooth expanse of Jongdae's bare chest, a rib, rib, hard sternum, until they diverged, his thumbs rubbing Jongdae's pink nipples. The hitch in Jongdae's breath made him smile endearingly, forced his gaze to Jongdae's mouth as he bit his bottom lip into mouth.

Joonmyun's hair fell forward, shielding his face from Jongdae's eyes as he pulled a soft bud into his mouth, teeth grazing it before he salved it with a soft, swirling tongue. He pressed a kiss to the middle of Jongdae's chest before sucking the other one into his mouth; his hand pressed coarsely into the inside of Jongdae's soft, pliant thigh, and he could begin to feel the swelling of Jongdae's cock as he torturously, lovingly purveyed the warm, tendon-taut stretch of Jongdae's neck.

Jongdae embraced Joonmyun close to his body, and it became immediately evident to him what was different from the fuck he almost subjected himself to on the floor. He cursed softly, rolling his hips up, feeling Joonmyun's half-hard cock slide against his own as he squeezed his hips between his lover’s supple thighs.

"Talk to me," Joonmyun commanded through a drawn-out groan, body sliding so deliciously against his lover's as they began to open their bodies to the idea of opening up their souls to each other. Joonmyun squeezed his eyes closed, head sideways to face Jongdae's profile, chin settled against the inside of his shoulder as he invaded Jongdae's senses, hair scuffing his face as the scent of Jongdae's summer grass deodorant reminded Joonmyun of their forest hikes and late-night kissing sessions in their tent when they had any time off.

Jongdae didn't know whether he had the mental bandwidth to think about Joonmyun opening him, pressing into him with all his might and taking him, and at the same time have rational, coherent thoughts.

A wave of pleasure hit him as his cock found pressure pressed between their bodies and against his older lover's, and he could feel the vein in his forehead begin to pulsate. The streaks of light night fell on the both of them, now, and in crystal clear definition, and even luckier - up close - Joonmyun was able to see the fawn, chocolate of Jongdae's eyes, the hooked-talon curves of his beautiful eyelashes, the little blemishes and imperfections, the curve of his sharp cheekbones.

“Give me your fingers,” Jongdae whispered hoarsely. When Joonmyun didn’t move, he grabbed Joonmyun’s wrist and forced two of his fingers past his lips. His hot breath taunted Joonmyun; his tongue laved and lathered his fingers in attention and wet. When Joonmyun’s back hit the bed, he hardly noticed, too completely entranced by Jongdae’s hands gripping one of Joonmyun’s own, sucking sinfully on his fingers. When he realized he was now looking up at Jongdae, catching the full light of the moon against his pink chest and hard buds, he pistoned up in pure want.

He craved Jongdae. His body, his mind, his future. His body arched up into his lover’s, causing him to drop his hand and let his head fall back just the slightest, adam’s apple bobbing in just that tempting way Joonmyun liked.

Joonmyun knew what Jongdae wanted. His hand reached around Jongdae’s body, fingers slowly slid down the smaller’s cleft before they circled the ring of muscle there.

“Quick,” Jongdae shuddered out. They locked eyes, and Joonmyun was pressing up into Jongdae, into his tightness, inside of him. Jongdae raised an eyebrow as if to say, “this isn’t as bad as you made me think”. He sank down the last inch onto Joonmyun’s knuckle, and Joonmyun twisted his hand. Jongdae leaned forward, svelte and slow, to claim Joonmyun’s lips, again, as Joonmyun decided to press two digits in, thicker and more forceful. He forced his young lover to keep kissing him, coaxing his tongue into his mouth as they breathed harshly through their noses, voices an undignified concoction of pleasure as Jongdae careened further onto his fingers.

Joonmyun pulled out of Jongdae before the insertion of his third finger – Jongdae’s saliva had already dried, and against the pulling and pleading of Jongdae (“please don’t stop, I can take it, Joonmyun, I can take it”), he stretched his arm to his bedside table for the little bottle of clear, viscous liquid. He discarded the bottle against the neighboring pillow, hands gripping Jongdae’s hips; with a yelp and a flurry of motion, Jongdae was again supine, out of breath and feeling weightless.

“Talk to me,” Joonmyun repeated, as his pink tongue licked a conciliatory strip up the inside of Jongdae’s thigh, much as he had before he wrapped his mouth around Jongdae. This time, Joonmyun was squeezing lube onto his fingers, letting the wet jelly drip like what reminded Jongdae of hand sanitizer down the very inside of his thigh. Joonmyun wrapped his long fingers around Jongdae’s cock and gave it a sharp tug as he teased his entrance with the three pads of his fingers, eyes trained on Jongdae’s screwed up, desperate expression.

With Joonmyun's forearm thrown across Jongdae’s chest to anchor him down, Jongdae broke. “Please, please, Joonmyun, baby, please, please make love to me. I swear I’m okay. I-“ A sniffle Joonmyun contributed to Jongdae abusing his AC – “I want to know what this feels like with you. Please, I…” his voice slid out from under him as Joonmyun obliged him, fingers pressing into his lover, curling against his tight walls as Jongdae tried to arch upward – only hindered by Joonmyun’s arm.

“Tell me you love me,” Joonmyun said, covering Jongdae’s thighs with peppery kisses. “Tell me, sweetheart, what I mean to you.”

“Everything,” Jongdae didn’t hesitate. His neck snapped to the left as he strained against the intrusion inside of him, legs attempting to close on their own volition, to hide this from Joonmyun, to take away his discomfort. “Everything.”

“Then trust me, okay? I know it hurts, Jongdae. Will you endure it for me?”

“Make me forget my name,” Jongdae repeated, Joonmyun having pressed his lover nearly in half with his knees almost to his chest. 

“Let go, baby,” Joonmyun cooed. He twisted his fingers inside of the younger; Jongdae’s muscle clamped down rapaciously against Joonmyun, forcing a little trickle of warmed lube out of Jongdae’s entrance. It dripped down onto the sheets. “Let go for me. Relax.” Joonmyun continued his twisting, pulling out of Jongdae, pressing slowly back in, ebbing and flowing like a tide. The squelching sound didn't match the loving tone of Joonmyun’s voice, of his careful preparation or his butterfly kisses to the younger’s thighs.

But there was still so much gravity in this. In the sharing of bodies, of faith in each other, of physical worship and letting go. 

“It feels good,” Jongdae finally said, because it’s all he could think There was a dull ache that he knew would probably never subside, but Joonmyun’s kneaded his experienced digits into a sensitive spot, tugging Jongdae down the bed, gripping his hip, rubbing the letter “Z” into the sharp jut of his hip bone. He hardly noticed when Jongdae began to moan desperately, high pitched and dragged out of his throat, hips stuttering when they couldn’t grind upward into nothingness and face flushed; his hands flew up to grip Joonmyun’s headboard, begging and pleading and a whiny mess beneath Joonmyun.

As Jongdae neared his second climax of the night, Joonmyun relinquished his fist and crawled up his writhing lover’s body. Jongdae cried out in what sounded to Joonmyun like anguish, tears in the corner of his dark eyes even as his arms settled behind Joonmyun’s back. His stare demanded an answer; Joonmyun just swooped low for a kiss as he lifted his frustrated lover’s hips off the bed, tip of his cock catching against Jongdae’s entrance. Joonmyun whispered into his ear, “I want this to be your best orgasm”, and Jongdae just nodded like he knew it would be.

It only took a gravelly “take me” from Jongdae to have Joonmyun slicking himself up and gripping the base of his member, forcing his way into his lover’s tightness. The strain was evident in Jongdae’s body: his back arched, giving Joonmyun an opportunity to support Jongdae’s lower back with an open palm; his jaw clenched in resolution; his nails dug into Joonmyun’s back. 

“Your body…” Joonmyun started, but he didn’t know how to finish. Jongdae was all warmth and love and scorched earth around him, pulling him in eagerly - his body was screaming with excitement as their lips crashed together, again; Joonmyun’s tongue curled around Jongdae’s just as his body had.

“Jongdae-“ 

Joonmyun’s about to ask him what it feels like, but Jongdae cut him off: “Nothing…” he grits out breathily.

Joonmyun panicked, but before he could misinterpret further, Jongdae’s heels dug into the small of Joonmyun’s back, fingers scratching white marks down his lover’s spine. “Nothing…is better than this,” Jongdae repeated, letting his eyes fall open to meet Joonmyun’s. They bumped foreheads, Joonmyun’s smile saturated with deep relief and concern, and they shared a soft peck before Joonmyun experimentally shifted his hips, silently entreating Jongdae to let him know if he could move.

Jongdae protested weakly, so Joonmyun waited, fingers brushing the part where the back of Jongdae’s thigh met his ass. It’s nearly painful how good he felt and even more painful that that wasn't reflecting for Jongdae.

When his young lover’s thighs began to fall apart even further, though, Joonmyun pulled out and pressed fully back into him, filling him up; Jongdae gasped and let out a surprised laugh. “Maybe one thing,” he added as an afterthought.

Joonmyun chuckled, gripping Jongdae’s hips as his pulled back and rutted forward again, letting Jongdae’s pliant body pull him back in, letting his curves and angles and his incoherent groaning speak to him. The high-pitched, wavering sounds fell on Joonmyun’s ears, hot, begging, religious, and he had never felt so proprietary in his life.

Jongdae’s body was his. He knew it by the way the man stretched and arched, reached and clawed, raised his hips to allow Joonmyun access to his soft prostate. He knew it by the pliant body he was now pistoning into, slow and inexorable and then fast and firm with a hand to stabilize Jongdae’s lower back. He knew it by the way Jongdae’s arms were eventually splayed out, hands under the pillow behind his head as his muscles relaxed, his body so utterly yielding that every clench of muscle Joonmyun knew was only for Joonmyun's own pleasure. He knew it by the way the beautiful man’s adam’s apple shifted like a bobber in a stream with every mewl or soft curse or little guttural noise Jongdae almost certainly unconsciously divulged to Joonmyun like a secret every time he filled him up, hand wiping away the tears at the corners of Jongdae’s eyes, the warm droplets that had streaked down Jongdae’s hot cheeks and rolled down his pillows. He knew it in the way Jongdae gripped him like his life depended on it, whispering into his ear about how good he felt, how much he was his, how he was his baby, his only lover.

And instead of Jongdae feeling vulnerable, he felt pried open and displayed like a prized possession in a private collection. On display and beautiful and sweaty and melting under his boyfriend, hearing the little whimper of skin against skin as Joonmyun hastened his pace, thrusting and rutting and letting his hips swivel as he dipped back into his lover. Jongdae began to shiver with anticipation when the tops of Joonmyun's thighs collided with Jongdae's ass with a hot little slap.

“Please, Joonmyun, please…” Jongdae begged, aiming upward to catch Joonmyun’s lips. Joonmyun pulled just out of his reach, smoothing the proceeding pout from Jongdae’s lips. 

“Please what, my love?” Joonmyun groaned out, snapping his hips forward to draw out that long-awaited, unabashed cry from Jongdae’s throat. It ripped out and shredded the air, a single, tremulous note as Jongdae’s body shivered and shuddered with each furious thrust just meant to breach the place between tender love and raw pleasure. Jongdae’s back was nearly completely off the bed, now, pillow soaked in his tears as his hands dug into the crease below Joonmyun’s ass, babbling incoherently, body consumed in a raging inferno.

“Touch me, Joonmyun,” he finally managed out, eyelashes dewy with tears and forehead covered in a sheen of sweat. The bed creaked with their exertion, and Joonmyun returned to his slow, burning pace as his fist came to tug at the younger’s cock, hard and leaking against his stomach. Jongdae was profoundly in need of release, desperately rutting up and pressing the hollow of his abdomen up into Joonmyun's muscles.

“I am so crazy about you,” Joonmyun whispered into Jongdae’s ear, loving him hard, so hard Joonmyun felt confident that Jongdae didn't know his identity, let alone his name. “You are so precious to me. So beautiful,” he continued, muttering low and sweet-tempered. “I want to show you…ah, fuck, Jongdae, I want to show you everything. Do it..ngh, together.”

Jongdae’s mind was so foggy with pleasure that before he could even warn his lover or respond to his whispered nothings, he came, untouched, seeing white, another cry piercing the air that was muffled with Joonmyun’s own mouth. He writhed and arched, back trembling with every clear little line that painted their chests, voice quavering and eyes blinking back the torrent of hot tears that streaked down his cheeks. The look on his face was meaningful - somehow poignant to Joonmyun - somehow special. It wasn't the tears, it was the smile.

It didn't take long for Joonmyun to reach his own orgasm, rutting into Jongdae’s clenched heat as Jongdae’s nails dug into his back. He became dizzy with pleasure when he released in spurts and shuddered into Jongdae’s loose, arched body, hands supporting his lover, fingers on the dimples of his lower back and thumbs at the top of his hip bones as he thrust Jongdae’s body down and canted upward, repeating Jongdae’s name low and harsh like a mantra as his hot seed filled him up. They hadn’t talked about it beforehand, but Joonmyun knew it’s what they both wanted – for Joonmyun to claim him.

He cradled his younger lover’s face in his hand, and gave him a grateful, languid kiss as he came down from his high, eyelashes fluttering as he collapsed on Jongdae’s chest. Both their bodies rose and fell in a rush as they caught their breaths in tandem.

When he felt himself going down, he allowed himself to pull out of Jongdae’s body, letting his legs down and wincing at the crack in his lover’s knees before they were back on the mattress. Cum streaked white over Jongdae’s already porcelain stomach, and Joonmyun couldn’t place why, but he was compelled to lean down and kiss the depressed space between Jongdae’s hipbones.

“You’re mine.”

“I know,” Jongdae breathed, bliss brilliant over his features.

After Joonmyun had cleaned them up with a rag he opted to get himself from the dorm bathroom, he discarded it in the hamper and crawled under the blanket he had draped over his naked lover’s body. In the morning, he would have to face the music of the curiosity of the other members – they would face it together. It was inevitable that someone had heard. Right now, though, his body bending around Jongdae’s like a protective shelter, he thought this was enough.

Jongdae stirred sleepily, wrapping his arms around Joonmyun’s neck. Joonmyun was freezing now that the heat was subsiding and his AC was once again trying to perforate their big, fluffy duvet. He breathed in the avocado oil soap his boyfriend used on his hair, pressing his nose to Jongdae’s scalp and picking up on hints of sweat, mingled with the sex hanging high in the room.

Jongdae was glowing. Joonmyun thought, in that moment, he was the most beautiful being alive.

“Angel. The only word that describes you.”

Jongdae harrumphed, yet shifted closer to into Joonmyun’s warmth, their bodies making it hard to discern where one ended and the other began.

“Joonmyun,” Jongdae whispered gently, fingers curling in the blankets near Joonmyun’s shoulder.

“Shh, baby. I’m here.” An afterthought, “Happy birthday, and for many more to come.”

And, holding each other, they fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because there was a severe drought of Suchen smut on Jongdae's birthday (and a severe lack of Suchen in general, lately). Hopefully this revives you all a little bit!
> 
> My Tumblr is [Jongdality](https://jongdality.tumblr.com). Comments are so so so appreciated.
> 
> Also cross-posted: [LJ](https://exoaffinity.livejournal.com/1122.html#)
> 
> (Title comes from EXO's Touch It - lyrics by Chen)


End file.
